


Did You Hear About the Morgans

by Spacecadet72



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outside views of Henry and Abigail throughout the years.</p><p>Spoilers for 1x21</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did You Hear About the Morgans

**1945**

“And how is our young patient doing this morning?”

Nurse Margaret Dillon looked up at the voice rising over the low level hum of activity in this corner of the hospital ward. Dr. Morgan was standing in the corner with Nurse Rayne, watching with a smile as she held one of the babies found in the camps. It had been a miracle, and those were hard to come by nowadays, so the baby, Abraham, had a fair amount of visitors. Just none as frequent as these two. 

“He’s doing very well, Dr. Morgan. His vital signs are still excellent and he always seems to be in a good mood.” 

Dr. Morgan took Abraham from Abigail and his smile grew and softened as the baby reached a hand out, grabbing the doctor’s hand. 

Abigail laughed, and Abraham giggled in response, causing Dr. Morgan to join them in their laughter. Both of them looked at the baby as if it was already their own. There were rumors of course, but officially, Abraham was scheduled to be taken to one of the nearby orphanages. 

And when they weren’t looking at the baby, they were looking at each other. Abigail’s smiles were knowing and secret, full of confidence in herself and whatever it was that was going on between them. Dr. Morgan looked at her in awe, as if he couldn’t completely believe that she was standing in front of him, smiling at him, talking to him. 

Which had always surprised Margaret. Abigail was beautiful, and more than one of the men in the camp had tried to win her affections, whether in sincerity or just the desire to quell the loneliness felt at war, but no one had been successful. But the doctor had turned quite a few heads himself. Margaret didn’t imagine that he would have a difficult time finding a woman who would want his attentions. 

“Nurse Dillon, I need your help with a patient.” 

Margaret pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked away from Dr. Morgan and Abigail. Staff Sergeant Richards, who was neither as handsome or as charming as Dr. Morgan, stood in front of her, a clipboard in his hand and a scowl on his face. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll be right there.” 

She looked back towards the corner, but only Abraham was still there, playing quietly with a small stuffed toy someone had provided. 

**1955**

“Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Morgan, thank you for coming.” Principle Johnson said as the couple walked into his office. He gestured for them to take their seats next to the other set of parents already seated. 

“I’m sure you know why we’ve called you in here today.” Mr. Johnson said, keeping his tone calm and authoritative. He hated these meetings, but he would remain professional. 

Mr. and Mrs. Morgan looked at each other briefly before he answered, his words slow and serious. “Yes, Abe was in an altercation.” 

“He gave our Jimmy a black eye.” Mrs. Winters broke in angrily. Mr. Johnson had to restrain himself from making a comment. He had spoken to the teachers who had witnessed the fight, and given what he knew about this student, it sounded like Jimmy had it coming. 

“We have spoken to Abe about non violent answers to his problems, but there is more to this story.” Mrs. Morgan said firmly, and Mr. Morgan nodded beside her. “Abe told us that your son,” she turned to address the Winters’, “was picking on a younger student. Abe stepped in to stop him.” 

Mrs. Winters blustered at that. Mr. Johnson fought back a grin. This wasn’t the first time the Winters’ had been called into his office, but never had he seen someone render Mrs. Winters speechless. 

“I’m sure that wasn’t the case…” Mr. Winters began as his wife fumed quietly beside him, but his words held no conviction. 

“He had a first grader in a chokehold.” Mrs. Morgan, interrupted, her gaze steely as she stared down Mr. Winters. He stopped talking. 

Mr. Morgan turned his attention to the principal. “We understand that fighting is against the rules, but given the circumstances...Abe was just trying to protect that other student. We feel that there’s something commendable in that” he said, gesturing to himself and his wife, who nodded her agreement. 

They sat, their backs straight, and their actions in sync. Mr. Johnson looked over at the other parents, and marveled at the contrast. Mr. Winters was leaned back in his seat, and it was obvious he thought this whole meeting was a waste of his time. Mrs. Winters sat angled away from her husband as she glared openly at the Morgans. 

He had heard enough. He didn’t know Abe Morgan as well as Jimmy Winters, but he seemed like a decent kid, and the story the Morgans told matched up to what he already knew. 

“Abe will be suspended for three days. Jimmy for two weeks.” 

“He hit my son!” Mrs. Winters cried, jumping to her feet. 

Mr. Johnson ignored her outburst and turned his attention to the Morgans as he stood. He shook both of their hands. “Thank you for coming in.” They both thanked him in return and left his office as they had come in. A team. 

**1970**

Doris shuffled the deck with an expert hand, as Helen brought a bowl of bridge mix from the kitchen. 

Helen sat down, opposite Barbara, and Doris began dealing the cards. She dealt them out quickly, the whole deck, the cards flying from her hand into haphazard piles in front of each woman. 

They all sorted their hands, the cards fanned out in their hands. 

“I ran into Abigail Morgan on my afternoon walk yesterday.” Shirley said, her eyes never leaving the cards in her hand. Her tone was light, her words innocent, but there was an undercurrent of what Doris could only describe as glee, and she and the others knew well what that meant. Shirley had gossip. 

“How is she doing? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Barbara asked, kindly, but Doris knew she was just as interested in whatever Shirley had to say. 

“She’s doing well,” Shirley said, and there was that gleam in her eye. This was going to be good. “We chatted for a few minutes, and then her husband came out of the house.” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Helen asked as she laid down her bid. 

“Have you see that husband of hers?” Shirley asked, her voice hushed as she leaned in conspiratorially. 

Doris, Helen and Barbara all exchanged glances, Abigail Morgan was a private person. She and her husband had moved into the neighborhood just over a month ago, and none of them had met the husband yet. She got along well with the other women in the neighborhood, but Doris didn’t think she was more than surface level friendly with any of them. The son would come visit occasionally, but other than that, the house, and the Morgans were quiet. 

“No, what about him?” 

“She’s got to be at least fifteen years older than he is.” Shirley said, her smile wide. “He can’t be a day over 35.”

“You’re kidding.” Barbara said, her eyes wide. It was her turn, but she had lowered her cards to focus on Shirley. 

Doris nudged Barbara gently. 

“Oh, sorry.” Barbara said as she took her turn. 

Shirley ignored the exchange and kept going. “And you’ve seen her son. There’s no way he’s the father. Can you imagine? They’re practically the same age.”

Helen shook her head and picked up three cards. 

“Was he good looking?” Doris asked innocently as she waited for Helen to finish her turn. 

Shirley’s grin only widened. “Oh, I know why she married him, I’m just not sure why he married her.” 

**1982**

Kimberley walked up to her newest table. A dark haired and very attractive man sat across from an older blonde woman. They were both dressed nicely, and Kimberley’s heart melted a little. She dealt with some real jerks at the restaurant, but every once in a while, she’d something sweet like this and it made things a little better. 

“My name is Kimberley and I’ll be your server for tonight.” Kimberley said as she handed them their menus. “It’s so sweet of you to take your mother to dinner,” she added to the man with a smile. 

The woman smiled tightly, but the man didn’t quite seem to hear her. 

That was a little odd, but she walked away to give them time to decide, her smile still in place. 

“I gotta say, I’m glad you get the weirdos tonight.” Kimberley’s co worker, Lisa, said as she walked back towards the kitchen to check on the order for another table. 

“What are you talking about? I don’t have anyone weird in my section tonight.” Kimberley asked, her eyebrows pulled down in confusion. 

Lisa gestured back out into the restaurant with her head. “The couple at table six.” 

“What’s weird about them? I think it’s sweet, that he’s taking his mom out.” Kimberley said, her head down as she refilled the water pitcher for a different table.

“Uh, hon, I sure hope that’s not his mom.” Lisa said, her eyebrows raised. 

“What are you--” Kimberley looked up and glanced at their table. The man had held the woman’s hand in his, and the look he was giving her wasn’t one a man would give his mother. Oh. _Oh._

Glancing at the clock on the wall above her, she knew that it was time to check in with them, to see if they had decided on what to order or if she needed to give them more time. 

Horrified at both the truth and her earlier slip up, she took in a deep breath and walked over to their table. 

“Are you ready to order, or would you like more time?” Kimberley’s tone was professional. She’d had enough practice waiting on assholes to know how to modulate her voice when she was feeling less than calm, but her voice sounded strained to her ears, her smile felt false on her face. 

The man looked up at her with a smile, one that was charming, but not flirtatious. He didn’t seem to be able to tell how uncomfortable she was as he told her his order, and for a moment, Kimberley thought she had been successful at hiding her revulsion. That was when she turned to look at the woman. Her smile was tight, and she couldn’t quite meet Kimberley’s gaze as she ordered the salmon. 

She knew. She knew exactly what this looked like, and she knew exactly what Kimberley was thinking. 

“I’ll be right out with your orders,” she said, before beating a hasty retreat. 

Why did she have to get the weird table tonight?

**1984**

The door to the bar opened at nine, and without looking up from the glass she was washing, Megan knew it was Henry. 

He’d started coming in weeks ago. He was vague and aloof when he arrived, but with enough scotch, she could usually get him to open up. His wife had left him, and never come back. He said she’d left because he was too young for her, a fact that he always punctuated with a bitter laugh or a sardonic upturn of his lips. 

He always talked about her, about Abigail. Megan had tried to get him to talk about other subjects, to help him move on, but the only times she was successful were when he would start talking about his son, Abraham. But thoughts of Abe always brought him back to Abigail and the cycle would start again. 

Tonight was particularly bad. 

“Alright, Henry. I’m cutting you off and I’m calling you a cab.” 

“No, I’m, I’m alright.” Henry slurred, his words almost unintelligible. 

“Sure you are.” she said, the sarcasm thick in her voice as she picked up his empty glass, but there was real concern in her eyes. 

“She wouldn’t leave.” Henry sobbed into the counter, his head cradled in the crook of his arm. “She was coming back, she wasn’t leaving for good.” 

Megan had seen enough weepy drunks to know that nothing would help. “I know, Henry. I know.” 

For all that Henry told her, she’d never gotten the full story, and from the pieces he’d given her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. There was just some baggage you never truly got over. 

She made a quick call to the cab company as Henry continued his mantra. “She wouldn’t leave, she just wouldn’t leave me.” 

She moved around the other side of the bar when she saw the cab pull up through the window. “Alright, Henry, let’s go.” she said, as she pulled at his arm. She was just grateful he was willing to be led outside. She didn’t need to end her shift dragging a resistant drunk out to a cab. 

She paid the cabbie and gave him Henry’s address. “It’ll be okay, Henry.” she said softly and hoped the words sounded as soothing as they were meant, but she didn’t quite believe it herself. 

**2015**

Jo walked over to where Henry stood at the head of the autopsy table. His eyes were red, and he looked like hell. “Henry, we don’t have to do this, right now if you don’t want to.” she spoke softly, and while there were still many unanswered questions about just what his connection was to this woman, she knew that now wasn’t the time to press for answers. 

He looked over at her, his smile sad, and grateful, but instead of walking away, he took a deep breath and moved forward. When he finally spoke, his voice wavered. “Remains of a Jane Doe, age 65 to 75, cause of death…fractured sternum.”

Jo watched as he continued with his explanation. He was close to tears, and she knew there was more to it than the fact that the victim was Abe’s mother. She’d been close to forcing him to give her an answer back in that jail cell, but then Judge Graves had confessed, and the case had moved forward again. She hadn't found a good time for her questions after that. 

She watched quietly, taking in the information as Henry explained, and Lucas politely, but firmly countered. She was impressed. She liked Lucas, and he was a valuable member of the team, but tact and restraint weren’t among his strong suits. 

And this was further proof, as if she needed it, that there was something deeper here. Lucas knew what he was doing, but it wasn’t like Henry to miss so many details. His grief was clouding his observations, and she just wished he would confide in her, let her play the role of comforter as he had after that old case of Sean’s. 

Jo smiled as Henry complimented Lucas, but the next moment her smile faltered as it was revealed that Abe’s mother had taken her own life. 

“Why would somebody do that?” she asked, looking at both of them, confused. That didn’t make any sense. 

Lucas shook his head. 

“To get away from someone.” Henry’s voice was a rough whisper, and as Jo looked over at him, she recognized the expression on his face. He had just had his ‘aha’ moment. 

Neither Jo or Lucas said anything as Henry walked out of the morgue without another word.


End file.
